Dining With Disaster
by Hani-and-Usa-UNITE
Summary: Romano didn't even want to go to stupid Anton-Spain's house anyway! So why did his idiot brother has to drag him here for dinner with "hermano" anyway! And what happens when Francis and Prussia decide to crash the party? rated T for Romano-ness


**A/N – Hello my friends! This is Usa here!**

**Hani: And let us not forget the tres bien moi, non?**

**Usa: Anyway, this fic is actually a roleplay Hani and I did on chat.**

**Hani: Haha, good times...**

**Usa: All of the dialogue is exactly what we typed to each other (we roleplay WAY too much).**

**Hani: But I like rp-ing! It's funtastical~**

**Usa: Anyway, I'm Lovi and Prussia.**

**Hani: I'm Francis, Spain, and Feli!**

**Usa: I just added descriptive words to it, then sent it to Hani and she added her own parts!**

**Hani: Story commence? Okay then, Mr. Worf, engage! (E-cookies to anyone who got that!)**

**P.S We got a review that alerted us to the fact that the first time we published this story, it repeated the first half of the story twice. Fanfiction was giving us trouble that day. =.=; So here is the full length story! Enjoy!**

"Fratello, guess what!" Lovino didn't bother looking up from the fridge at his brother, who was bouncing up and down in the middle of the kitchen, his hand over the mouthpiece of the telephone. The little Italian could barely contain his happiness. So he didn't.

"Dammit Feli! What now?" he grumbled.

"Hermano invited us over for dinner!" Lovino stood abruptly, banging his head on the top of the fridge in the process.

"Ve~~ You're coming, right?" was all his Feli said, taking no notice of his brother's pain.

"Nope," Lovino said, snatching a tomato from the basket on the window sill and biting into it, spraying juices everywhere in the process, "Have fun with the other idiota, idiota."

"Si! Fratello said he's coming too!" Feli giggled into the phone, fully aware of his older brother's true intentions.

"W-what?" Lovino shouted, dropping his tomato in panic, "Spagna, don't listen to him! He's almost a bigger idiot than you!"

He could hear the Spaniards over excited loud voice through the phone line. "Yay! I'm glad! C'mon, Lovinito! I'm making pasta, tomato salad, and paella!"

The older Italian stopped banging his head against the wall (hoping a head injury would excuse him from this night in hell) and looked up, "T-tomato salad...?" Oh, man that sounded really good... It was really hot outside, so juicy lettuce, fresh tomatoes and all the trimmings sounded absolutely

"You know you want to, Lovi~!" Antonio coaxed. How loud was he shouting for Lovino to hear him all the way over there? ...Stupid bastard...

"Fine. I'll come dammit," he relented, seeing that he couldn't win against his brother and the tomato bastard when they ganged up on him, "but only for the food, which better be good!"

Lovino blocked his ears as the two idiots in their obnoxious voices simotaniously yelled, "Yay!"

"…bastardos," was the only thing Lovino muttered.

"It'll be just the way you like it, Romamigo!" Spain shouted, "I'll see you two later then! Hasta luego, Lovinito, Feli!" Seriously, his voice must be hoarse.

"Hasta la pasta~!" Feli shouted back before they hung up on each other.

Lovino pouted at a smiling Feliciano. "When do we have to leave?" he asked, emphasizing the fact that he was being forced to do this.

"At five, we'll be there around six! It'll be fun, Fratello," he continued, "and won't this be a good opportunity to tell Spain that you love him, too!"

"I-…Wh-…" Lovino started, blushing madly, but was interrupted.

"You do, fratello..." Feli gave him a knowing look. Oh, the look on the other's face was so precious!

"No way in hell do I love that good-for-nothing bastard!" Lovino exclaimed face red with a mixture of anger and embarrassment.

"Tell me," Feliciano began, eyes gleaming in a teasing manner, "who was the one who held you while you cried in heart break?" he winked playfully.

"That wasn't heartbreak...! I-I had something in my eye, and you know it!" Lovino huffed, plopping down heavily on the sofa.

"But still~ you were complaining about 'that damn tomato bastard'," Feli said, actually smirking at his older brother. What the hell had gotten into him?

"I always complain about him…he deserves it," muttered Lovino, crossing his arms moodily.

"Ve~ You really do, don't you~~?"

"Anyway," said Lovi, determined to change the subject, "we should go….n-not that I want to…"

Feliciano snapped back into oblivious mode (which was good because, quite honestly, devious Feli was kind of scary).

"Be right back, fratello!" The younger man skipped off into his bedroom to get ready.

Ten minutes passed, and the man had yet to emerge from the room.

"I swear...he takes longer to get ready than a girl does..." mumbled Lovino, catching a glimpse of his hair in the mirror. As usual, it was a mess. Lovino ran a hand through it, attempting to straighten it out…not that he cared how he looked. It was just that damn tomato bastard anyway. But still, he continued his (manly) primping.

"Okay~! Let's go!" a chipper voiced said behind him, popping up in the mirror with a sunny smile.

"Gah!" exclaimed Lovino, spinning around, attempting to look casual. He didn't want to seem like he cared about his appearance, "Don't do that, dammit! Come on..."

"Do you want to drive? Or should I?" Feli asked, looking at him innocently.

"You're making me go, you drive," Lovino shot back, storming out to the car.

"Okay~!" Feli said in a sing song voice, skipping around to the driver's side, "Ve~ I love driving! Andiamo, fratello!"

"I'm coming," I growled, hopping in the passenger side and settling in the leather seat.

"Yay! C'mon!" Feliciano turned the keys in the ignition, slammed on the gas, and rocketed out of the driveway.

"F-FELI! Slow down!" I shouted. Lovino remembered why he never let his brother drive.

"Ve~? But I am going slow~!"

Romano clung to the seat for dear life. Antonio lived a one hour drive from the Italies villa, but when Feliciano drove, it only took thirty minutes.

"Fratello~ We're here!" he shouted, jumping out of the car and running to the front door. Lovino shakily unbuckled his seatbelt. Before opening the door, Lovino took a deep breath. He had to regain his composure before seeing Antonio. Finally calm enough, he climbed out of the car with his signature scowl that was meant with the signature smile of a certain Spaniard.

"Feli! Lovinito!" Spain shouted, throwing his front door open, "Bienvenido, mis amigos!"

"Ciao, bastardo," he said, walking up to the front steps.

Spain ran past the brothers, heading toward their car.

"Are you going to let us in?" Lovino asked, looking at the sprinting Spaniard as if he were insane.

"Si! I was making sure Feli put the car in park this time. We don't want a repeat of the incident at America's party…"

"Good thinking..." he admitted reluctantly. The nations didn't like to talk about that incident. Quickly he added, "Its the first smart thing you've said,"

"Ven conmigo! Let's eat, I think that's the pasta!" exclaimed Antonio, running into the house upon hearing a timer beeping in the kitchen.

Feli perked up at the mention of his favorite dish. "Pasta?" he shouted, and ran after Spain.

"Idiots..." was all Lovino said as he rolled his eyes and followed them inside.

"Ve~ Ciao Frere!" Lovino heard his brother's cheery voice from inside.

"Oh, Ita! You look great! I see that you…" Lovino avoided the room that Francis was obviously in.

The Italian leaned in the doorway of the kitchen, clearing his throat so that Antonio would notice his presence. The man turned from the stove, "Lovi, wanna help me taste everything?"

Lovino perked up at the mention of food, but attempted to keep his nasty tone, "…I guess."

Lovino walked over to the counter, plucking a slice of tomato from the cutting board. He slapped away the Spaniards hand as he tried to feed the other a slice of cheese, snatching a stirring spoon to use as a weapon if needed.

"Oi Spain," he said, still brandishing the spoon in case the bastard tried anything funny, "Why's the French bastard here?"

"Oh, him and Gil randomly showed!" responded the other, "But the more the merrier, right?"

_Dammit! The other bastard is here…_ he thought.

"Hey Roma!" exclaimed a loud, obnoxious voice from behind him. No sooner had he heard the voice than he was tackle-glomped from behind.

"Get off!" Romano shouted, pushing the albino away and punching him in the gut.

"Now, now, you two~" chuckled Spain, stirring the sauce.

Lovino sat down and put his feet up on the table, "When are we eating, Spagna?"

"As soon as the pasta's done!" he sang, merrily humming as he watched over the food.

"Pasta~?" Feli popped up behind Lovino, scaring the life out of the poor Italian.

"So Tonio," began Gilbert, clearly planning on staying uninvited, "What's for dinner?"

"Paella, pasta, and tomato salad!" he replied. Antonio paused, as if in thought (that wasn't possible though, because idiots can't think), then continued, "and I have some wurst in the refrigerator if you want…"

"THANKS TONIO!" he was interrupted by an excited Prussian, bursting into his fridge.

"And there's wine for Feli and Francis," he finished.

"Ah, Romano~" A pair of arms slid around Romano from behind, and a voice with a thick French accent addressed him.

"Get off wine-bastardo!" he shouted, trying to pry the invading hands away from him.

If Lovino had been paying close enough attention to Spain, he would've seen the man's eyes narrow dangerously at the Frenchman in a silent threat.

Romano struggled and, surprisingly, the other released him with a nervous chuckle.

"Oui, oui," he said, and slunk away towards the wine that Feliciano was opening with some trouble.

"What about me, idiota," Lovino asked, wiping his hands on his shirt as if there were still lingering cooties.

"You've got wurst for potato bastard number two, and wine for my brother and the other idiot…"

"I made you your favourite tomato salad, your favourite kind of paella, and pasta your way, Lovi!" he smiled brightly, making Lovino's heart skip a beat.

_No, no! _he thought, _it wasn't his smile…I-I just have a heart flutter. That's all…_

"Hmph," he snorted, and looked away.

Antonio tugged on Lovino's cheek, "Aww, Loviño~! You look just like a tomato!" he squealed.

Romano slapped away the hand, fighting his encroaching blush. "Stupid..."

"Andiamo~ I finished making Bruder his wurst, and the pasta is done! Let's eat!" Feliciano giggling, the wine getting to him a little.

Romano rolled his eyes, "Finally…"

Feli suggestion that they start dinner was met with general consent.

Francis took the seat between Spain and Feli. Just as Romano was about to sit down next to his brother, Prussia slid in with a sly smile on his face. The only seat that remained empty was the one next to Antonio.

Feliciano had a discrete smirk on his lips.

"Loviño!" Spain grinned.

"There's nowhere else to sit, bastardo, don't make anything of it!"

Francis rolled his eyes, _Could you be any more obvious, mon ami~?_ he thought.

"Whatever you say, mi Lovinito," Spain grinned, happy that his little tomato was sitting with him.

"What are you smirking at?" Romano snapped at the Frenchman, who was smirking at the pair.

"Ah~ just the work d'amour," laughed Francis, sipping his wine.

This remark was met with no comment from the Italian, despite his face turning a vibrant red from mixture of contained anger and embarrassment. The Spaniard seemed oblivious to the Frenchman's knowing comment, and Romano preferred it to remain that way.

Feliciano giggled, taking another swig of his wine, "Ah, fratello... I'm so happy you have hermano!" A dark look left Feli's eyes as quick as it came, and the Italian giggled again. (A/N: I was going to write man, but it just didn't sound right...^-^; )

"Well I'm eating," Romano scowled, reaching over to dish out some pasta.

"Okay~ Let's eat!" said Spain, taking a scoop of tomato salad.

Dinnner went by smoothly, besides the general idiocy of the company Romano was keeping.

"Ahhh! I'm so full!" Feliciano sighed, rubbing his stomach. He sneezed suddenly, and reached up to rub his nose.

"You have sauce on your face, idiota," scoffed Lovino, rolling his eyes at his immature brother.

"Ve~? I guess I do..." Feli said, looking at the slick red substance on his fingers.

"Aw, Feli! You're so cute! Fusosososososo~!"

"Yea, Ita's adorable," Gibert piped up.

"Oui, tres migon !" added in Francis.

Sometimes Lovino got really sick of hearing how adorable his brother was, especially when it was Spain. N-not that he wanted Spain to think _he_ was adorable or anything. It's just that…well…dammit, it made him feel all weird inside whenever Spain doted on someone else. But it definitely wasn't jealously. Nuh-uh. No way. It was just how everyone thought Feli was better...

"I'll help!" declared Spain, wiping the sauce off olive skin with his fingers, "Well, can't let it go to waste~" Spain proceeded to lick off the sauce, slowly, closing his eyes and seeming to enjoy it.

Romano, who had been silently pouting at his empty plate up until then, looked up at his idiot brother. His eyes widened when he saw what Spain was doing.

"BASTARDO!" Lovino shouted, "We have napkins, you know!"

"Ah~ but it was tomato sauce!" Spain whined, "And me'n Feli worked hard on it, why let it rot in a trash can, am I right?"

Francis buried his face in hands, _You idiot._

"You don't get it do you?" asked Romano, before he even realized what he was saying.

"Get what?" asked Spain. Lovino couldn't very well answer him, because he wasn't exactly sure what Spain was supposed to get. Something inside him snapped when he saw Antonio acting all…well…lovey with his brother

_I-I have to get out of here…_ He felt his eyes getting misty, and couldn't stand letting the others, especially one certain Spaniard, see him like this. In a swift, furious movement, he got up and stormed from the room.

"Fratello..." Feli murmured, looking at the empty space where Romano has departed.

"What did I do...?" Spain wondered aloud.

"Tonio, you idiot..." Gilbert smacked his forehead with a palm, sighing at his dense friend.

Francis stood up, "I'll be right back, excuse me." The Frenchman quickly exited the room the same way that Romano did.

France looked in several of the guestrooms in Antonio's oversized house before happening upon Lovino, slumped against a wall, sniffling. He looked up to see who entered, "Romano, are you okay...?"

"Go away, wine-bastard!" Lovino shouted hoarsely, hurriedly wiping his eyes.

"Relax, Lovi. I'm not here to do anything," he reassured, gently ruffling his hair (careful to avoid that particular strand of hair that would earn him a bruised face if he touched).

"Like I believe that," he retorted, shoving him away roughly, but too busy trying to keep back tears to make a further attempt at harming the other.

"Why are you here, bastardo?" asked Lovino.

"I am your older brother, non?" he retorted, rolling his eyes, "It is the job of the older brother to comfort his younger brothers when they are sad."

At this point, Romano didn't give a damn about who was there to comfort him. Trying not to cry was too much effort anyway...

France pulled Lovino into a hug, shocked that his plan was working out so well. "I know Espagne can be an idiot, but..."

Just then Lovino heard the door creak open silently, then heard a familiar voice murmur, "Lovi?" Spain's eyes widened, then narrowed, when he saw the position Francis had Lovi in. _His_ little Lovi!

Francis smirked when he saw Antonio enter, _Right on time, mon ami,_

"I don't see anything funny about this, Francis!" he said, mistaking the Frenchman's sly smirk for amusement, "Let him go, now."

Francis disentangled his arm from his 'little brother' and looked up at the Spaniard innocently.

Antonio stormed over, glaring daggers. (You know that old expression, "If looks could kill"? Well Francis would be dying a slow, painful death involving many twisted torture methods) "How many times do I have to tell you! Leave my Romanito alone!" he yelled, an angry passion lighting up in his eyes, "He's not one of your damn toys, Francis! He's my former charge! You can go screw whatever the hell you fancy, but leave Loviño out of this!"

"Spagna..." Lovino whispered, not believing how angry the other was getting.

- Hide quoted text -

"You know how much he means to me!" If Spain had been paying attention, he would've made a comment about Lovi's tomato blush that spread across his face, "He's my world, my everything, and I'm not about to let you take him away from me! Turkey and you trying to kidnap him when he was my colony was bad enough! I know that now he's a Nation and that he can take care of himself now, but you know as well as I that I love him Francis! You _know _that!"

D-Did he just say he loved him...? _Spain_ just said he _loved_ him. Lovino couldn't explain the bubbly feeling in his chest, or how he suddenly felt…dizzy? He jumped up and hugged the Spaniard tightly. When explaining his actions to himself later, he blamed the dizziness and said he was using Antonio as support.

"Spagna..." he said, crying a little

Spain jumped. During his tirade, he had completely forgotten the other's presence, "A-ah…Lovi…"

_Well, this is not how I planned this moment…_

The Italian mumbled incoherently into his chest.

"What was that, Loviño?" he asked, taking the others chin and tilting his face up to his own.

"T-ti amo anache, bastardo..."

Antonio's eyes widened, and his face spilt into a bright grin.

"Te amo, Lovinito... Te amo." He said, kissing his hair softy.

Suddenly, Antonio felt the hands against his chest pushing him away. Lovino looked at him seriously.

"You…don't like my brother best?" he asked, eyes slightly red.

"Q-que? What would give you that idea?"

"'He's so cute! He's so talented!'" Romano mocked, looking slightly deflated.

Antonio moved forward and rubbed Lovino's shoulders, "But he's nothing compared to you, mi amor." The Spaniard moved in closer, whispering in Romano's ear, "Te amo, mi Romamor." Before Romano knew what was happening, he felt Spain's lips against his.

At first he was frozen, taken completely off guard by the sudden contact. His gut reaction told him to punch the Spaniard's face off, but his head told him it wasn't a good idea. I-It just wasn't worth the effort, and Antonio wouldn't let him go anyway and….Romano didn't think it was _that_ bad….

Spain kissed him tentatively at first, wondering vaguely how badly he was going to be hurt after this. He felt Romano freeze, and considered stopping, but then something entirely unexpected happened. Lovino wrapped his arms around Antonio's neck and pulled him closer. Spain happily complied.

Finally, Lovino broke the kiss, "We should go back out there," he breathed, not wanting to break the perfect silence.

"_Aww, they're so cute together!" _A bubbly voice with an Italian accent came from the corner of the room, sounding electronically processed.

"_The awesome agrees!_"

_"As do I, cheris!"_

"GAH! WHAT THE HELL?" The Italian picked up the electronic device, glaring at it as if doing so would make it wither in his grasp.

"_Oops,_" Francis continued, "_and I _accidentally _brought this baby monitor in, that _happens _to be linked to the one here in the kitchen..._"

"Francis...!" Romano growled, threw the baby monitor at the wall, and then tore out of the room after a certain Frenchman. Most people think Lovino run fastest when escaping, but he's really at his fastest when he's out to kill.

"Oh, Francis~," Spain sighed, and went to chase down his lover before he killed his best friend

***~ In the Kitchen ~***

Feli giggled as he heard his brother's voice come from the speaker.

"Yay! Fratello and Hermano are finally telling each other how they feel!"

After a long pause, Gilbert turned to Feliciano, "So…wanna have dessert?"

***~ End ~***

**A/N – So, what did you guys think? This is our first joint fic, so PLEASE REVIEW! I'll give you a cookie~!**


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